


walk walk fashion baby

by minty (fulmiinata)



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, accidentally wearing the exact same outfit au, cheesy fluff, happy birthday to the coolest cool ranch dorito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:02:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2307314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulmiinata/pseuds/minty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This has to be a coincidence of cosmic proportions, Sousuke thinks, gaze firmly trained on the guy sitting in front of him, because how else would he manage to walk out of his apartment being twinsies with a complete stranger?</p><p>A completely <em>hot</em> stranger."</p>
            </blockquote>





	walk walk fashion baby

They're wearing the same outfit. The _exact_ same outfit.

A denim shirt, with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up the elbows; black jeans—slim, not skinny—and brown boots. They're both even holding light gray sweaters. The only noticeable difference between them are their accessories—Sousuke's got his ratty old beanie on, while large black glasses are perched on the other's nose.

This has to be a coincidence of cosmic proportions, Sousuke thinks, gaze firmly trained on the guy sitting in front of him, because how else would he manage to walk out of his apartment being twinsies with a complete stranger?

A completely _hot_ stranger.

It's likely he hasn't noticed Sousuke yet, seeing as how his nose has been buried in a book the whole train ride, but Sousuke has definitely noticed him. Even if it weren't for the blatant stealing of Sousuke's outfit of the day, the brunet's attention still probably would've been drawn to him; his sandy colored hair, pushed off his forehead, his sunny green eyes traveling rapidly across the pages of his book.

He's glanced at his phone twice, each time smiling brightly at whatever sweet message or nude he's been sent and causing Sousuke's heart to clench. It's too bad there aren't any more seats available, and the only thing keeping him upright is the strap dangling from the ceiling, because his knees are starting to buckle. Hanging with Rin too often might be starting to take it's toll—Sousuke can't remember the last time he's been so deeply affected by infatuation. He's not a romantic by any means, but looking at this gorgeous guy is making him dream of walks along the beach, breakfast in bed, owning cute dogs together, kissing in the rain. It's like every terrible romantic cliche rolled into one.

Would he be a good kisser? Sousuke knows he himself is more than decent, but he wonders about the other guy. He has a broad mouth and full lips, lips that look soft. They'd probably fit well against his own, bottom lip trapped between Sousuke's.

A sudden clatter of the train briefly knocks Sousuke out of his thoughts. He clears his throat, clears his head, and reaffirms his grip on the strap. The train is particularly quiet this morning, probably because there aren't any kids. If his memory serves him right, they should be on break from school. Sousuke himself isn't going to school either; instead, he's heading to Rin's apartment for some big birthday thing the redhead's got planned for him. Sousuke insisted he didn't want to do anything, that twenty-four isn't a special birthday and he was _more_ than happy to spend it at home drinking beer and watching Ghibli movies (his weakness) all day.

Of course, at his proposal, Rin had said something like, "That has the appeal of wet bread," along with, "As your best friend and platonic soulmate—"

"We—we're not soulmates—"

"—It's my job to make sure every birthday you have until the day your skin becomes the consistency of a raisin is kickass. Including this one."

And Rin, just like his boyfriend Haru, was the type that was impossible to dissuade once he made up his mind, so Sousuke just ended up shrugging and giving in like he always did. He honestly expected the whole event to be some over dramatic spectacle with copious amounts of alcohol and possibly other strippers Rin works with, but he definitely didn't expect to encounter his non-platonic soulmate on the ride to said spectacle.

Sousuke doesn't even know his name, but he knows they are meant to be. His mouth is dry, palms sweaty, a warmth blooming deep in his chest, and he has to know just what is it about this stranger that makes him feel this way. He knows exactly how it's going to happen; first, he'll make a comment like, "My outfit looks better on you than it does on me," making the stranger will look up, curious as to who said that before realizing the amazing coincidence before him, then, Sousuke will smile and be charming and finally, he will get off the train with the contact information of one more person than when he got on. It's foolproof.

_"Now stopping at Morikawa Station. Once again, Morikawa Station."_

The stranger stands up suddenly, marking the page he's left off on before closing the book and putting it inside his bag. (Sousuke can't help but notice the way it matches his boots.) He starts to head towards the exit.

This was not anticipated. Sousuke should have formulated his plan sooner, instead of thirty seconds before Perfect Stranger arrived at his stop—now what's he going to do? He has no idea what the chances of seeing him again on this particular train are, and frankly he'd rather not find out just how bad they are. There has to be something he can do.

Fortunately, as luck would have it, he doesn't have to do a thing, because someone else does it for him. A lot of people are getting off at Morikawa, it seems, and someone bumps into Perfect Stranger just hard enought to send him straight into Sousuke's chest.

He's definitely heavier than expected, but it makes sense as his build is similar to Sousuke's—tall, broad-shouldered, thick. Instinctively, Sousuke lets go of the strap to grasp Perfect Stranger's shoulders, steadying him.

"Ah! I am so, so sorry—" The stranger starts to apologize, voice lilting notes and golden honey, when he stops suddenly, taking in the shirt pulled tight across Sousuke's chest, the jeans sitting low on his hips, the brown boots set firmly on the ground. Quickly he glances down at himself. "Well, what are the odds?"

Sousuke sheepishly half-smiles. "Yeah. I didn't really think I'd see someone look better in my own outfit today than I do."

A blush swiftly rises in Perfect Stranger's cheeks. It's cute. He looks away, embarrassed, mumbling, "I definitely wouldn't say that..."

Heat crawls up Sousuke's face as well, but he internally gives the weak excuse that it's because of the beanie. September's still a little too warm for hats, right? He gulps, unsure of how to respond before realizing that his hands are still very much wrapped around Perfect Stranger's perfect shoulders.

Tentatively he releases his grip. "Uh, I. Sorry. Yeah." Sousuke just kind of lets his hands awkwardly float in the air.

_"Last call for Morikawa. We depart in one minute."_

The announcer's interjection breaks the slightly awkward silence, bringing Perfect Stranger back to reality. He checks the orange watch at his wrist, eyes widening when he realizes the time.

"Oh no, I'm running out of time!" He starts making his way back to the doors, turning briefly to face Sousuke with a large smile that makes his heart go _doki._ "Thank you! Please have a great day!"

Perfect Stranger disappears out of train doors, and knowing his luck, out of Sousuke's life.

He's not going to risk it. Sousuke slips his phone out of his pocket to send a quick text to Rin.

**Me**  
 _gon be late_

Once again, the announcer's voice cuts through the air like a knife, and Sousuke darts toward the exit as fast as he can, just barely squeezing past the doors as they close with finality. 

"Hey, wait!" he cries out, and looks around for someone wearing a denim shirt and black jeans.

**Author's Note:**

> this is fucking late
> 
> thank you for reading ♡ come verbally abuse me at fulmiinata.tumblr.com


End file.
